What's for Dinner
by Okami-chan
Summary: IDWverse, it needs some love. The humans are hungry. Wheeljack has a solution. Rated for brief language


Author's note: Did anyone else wonder what the Autobots fed their guests?

What's For Dinner?

The Autobots turned their heads, as highly-tuned audio receptors caught a series of strange sounds originating from 'The Box.' That was Sunstreaker's term for the area they'd stuck the humans in. Prowl frowned at the interruption before returning to monitoring the Earth's airwaves. Neither Prime nor Sunstreaker turned from what occupied their cortexes. Wheeljack looked up from where he was tinkering with one of Ark-19's sensor relays. Jazz and Ironhide looked at each other in bewilderment. Bumblebee and Ratchet exchanged a bemused glance. They'd heard similar noises during the trip to Nebraska.

Jazz strode over to the video screens attached to The Box, and flicked them on. Then he sent his holomatter-self into The Box. "Hey ya, what's with the long faces?"

The three teens squawked, leaping out of their seats.

Hunter put his hand on his chest. "Geez, Jazz, haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

'Jazz' rubbed the back of his head, grinning. "Sorry 'bout that." The strange sound rumbled from Verity. 'Jazz' tilted his head. "What is that noise?"

Jimmy rubbed at the corners of his eyes. "We're hungry. That Wendy's we had on the way to Nebraska wore off like an hour ago."

Verity crossed her arms over her abdomen, a sheepish grin on her face as yet more, though quieter, grumbles erupted from the vicinity of her stomach. "You guys don't happen to have any food around here, do you?"

'Jazz' rubbed his chin."Your kind don't consume fuel or oil, do you?"

The three teens shook their heads, laughing.

"Hang on a klick." Jazz cut off his generator and the other him faded. He looked back at his fellow Autobots, specifically Ratchet and Bumblebee. "How 'bout it gang. Did anyone think to pick up food for our little guests?"

Prowl looked up again, and this time Optimus Prime turned in the comm chair, pulling himself out of the multitude conversations he was having. Prime gave Prowl a 'This is your problem' look before he turned his attention back to the comm channels. Prowl, for his part, turned that same look on Ratchet. Ratchet appealed to his comrades.

No one met the medic's optics. At least, not until Wheeljack made a thoughtful noise. "You know, I... might have something. It's in storage." He moved off, mumbling something about plates.

Ratchet wasn't sure whether he ought to be relieved.

Or worried.

Jazz popped back into The Box. "Wheeljack's got something for you."

"Thanks, that should save my wallet." Jimmy sighed.

Hunter furrowed his brow. "Just what is it, anyway?"

'Jazz' shrugged. "Not really sure." 'Jazz' paused and smiled. "Why, here he is to answer that!"

One side of The Box lifted, giving the humans a view of a giant hand holding a plate. A balding elderly man flickered into existence and took the proffered plate. He set it on the table and slid three plates in the humans directions. "It's a delicacy."

It looked like meatloaf. Made out of many different shades of green.

The three teens gave it a skeptical look, but their stomachs growled and they sliced off a section with the forks 'Wheeljack' handed them. They took a section off their slice and put it in their mouths.

"Hm, you know this isn't half-bad," Verity said as she chewed. She began to eat it with enthusiasm, taking another, bigger slice off the 'loaf.

"Not half-bad? This is great!" Jimmy amended, scooping every last piece of the food off the plate before going for another.

"Where in the world did you get this, Wheeljack?" Hunter asked, a third slice already on his plate.

'Wheeljack' grinned, and Wheeljack's earbulbs flashed happily. "Not this world. It comes from Archsclepf."

Jimmy looked up, and paused to ask. "Oh yeah, what do they call it?"

Not much remained of the alien delicacy at this point. Verity reached for the last piece, stabbing her fork into it before Hunter could get to it.

Wheeljack was very pleased to see that they enjoyed it so much."It's called weeblesplöch. Except they pronounce it like _wee_" and his vocalizer went into an incredible high pitch before dropping back down to its normal tone, "blesplöch. Really cute." Then he took the initiative of what he thought their next question would be. "It's made from the ground innards of a wompenlöch."

The last bit of her weeblesplöch hung from Verity's mouth. Forks paused mid-motion as Jimmy and Hunter stared at 'Wheeljack.' The girl turned several interesting shades of green, she even briefly matched the stripes on Wheeljack's legs. Then she fled into one of the wasterooms designed by the Autobots for their fleshy guests' needs.

Wheeljack frowned at the hacking noises coming from the wasteroom. He looked at the other two humans, both of whom had set their forks down. "Did I say something wrong?"

Jimmy eyed that last little bit on his plate. "It's not exactly what you said. More like what you didn't say."

Ratchet couldn't resist. He activated his own holomatter generator and sent his faux human into The Box. "And you wonder why we stopped letting you out."

'Wheeljack huffed indignantly. "Well how was I supposed to know the Sclepf princesses dressed like peasants?"

Jimmy's eyes widened with realization. "Wait a minute. Hunter says you've been here a couple of years." His face went white as Ratchet's paint job. "How long have you had this?"

Wheeljack had to think a few klicks about that. "About ten meta-cycles."

Jimmy continued to stare at Wheeljack. "What's that in Earth time?"

"A little over ten of your years."

Jimmy made a choking noise, followed by an 'Oh god!' and he ran for one of the wasterooms.

Hunter sighed and pushed away his plate, frowning in disgust. "There goes my appetite."

Wheeljack blinked his optics in confusion, while his faux human scratched at his head. "Didn't you say it was delicious."

Hunter pressed his lips together and glared at the image.

Wheeljack tapped a finger on his mask, a gesture his avatar copied onto his lips. "I'm actually surprised that you found it so appealing, since most humans, your nation in particular, find the ingestion of organic wastes disgusting."

Hunter twitched. "Why are you bringing that up all of a sudden?"

Wheeljack, both of them blinked. "Hm? Oh, the wompenlöch lives in and consumes the wastes of the anthropax."

"Wastes as in…" Hunter's voice tapered off, his skin tone gaining a sepia tinge.

Wheeljack looked way too cheerful. "As you humans put it, excrement, fecal matter-"

"Shit," Sunstreaker quipped, a smirk on his ivory face.

And that was it for Hunter. Up he got, for the wasteroom did trot. Jimmy and Verity came out then, (the Autobots had discovered that female humans always took longer in the wasteroom than the males) wiping their mouths, still wearing disgusted looks.

"Next time we're gettin' McDonald's." Verity declared, sitting as for away from the weeblesplöch as she could.

"Yeah, sure, volunteer my wallet. May as well go buy some real food when we do," Jimmy grunted.

Jazz opened his mouth, but Hunter burst out of the wasteroom before the Porsche could say anything.

"You fed us shit?" He screamed at the happy-go-lucky scientist.

"You could say that."

Verity and Jimmy whirled about and disappeared into the wasterooms. Ratchet opticed Wheeljack's cheerful demeanor.

Truth be told, the Autobots couldn't tell whether this was accidental, or if Wheeljack had it all planned for just such a reaction. Lightbulbs and optics shining innocently, both Wheeljacks regarded everyone. "Was it something I said?"


End file.
